For any of you out there that have been reading me for any length of time you realise that this blog is my version of therapy. I vent my spleen here, share details of my life, my struggles and generally throw down my grammatically challenged thoughts. This is a post I’ve been working on in my head for a few weeks now and really just need to commit it to black and white. There are a couple of you out there who may know me IRL and I’m asking you now to please not share a word of this with anybody.
Two weeks ago I walked into my wife’s office and she whipped her boob out “Here, feel this.” Well, you don’t have to ask me twice; I’m never one to turn down a good groping opportunity! However seeing the glee spread across my face she quickly followed up “No, I don’t mean like that. Here, feel right here.” She carefully studied my face as I felt the lump in her breast.
“Mmmmmm….. bewwwwbbieeeezzzzzzzzzz” I manage.
“Can’t you feel that? The lump?!”
“Sure, but you said yourself you haven’t been feeling well, that feels like a lymph node, nothing to worry about.”
“Well, I AM worried.”
“You’re always worried, make an apt with your Dr and go from there but I’m sure it’s nothing.”
We’ve had this same conversation several times in the days since. Now to be honest, I really am fairly confident that it’s nothing; it presents as a damn near text book fibroadenoma (at least to an armchair I-like-to-play-Dr-at-home kinda guy like me). She had a cyst removed from her back a number of years ago and I suspect this is the same sort of thing. I’ll spare you the details but it doesn't present as most breast cancer cases do and I’ll be damned if I’m not clinging to that. Mind you, if it was my breast I'd be reaching for the steak knife because that little fucker would have to come out and would have to come out NOW!
Her appointment is on Thursday and I’ll be out of town. Yeah, I know.
The lump has been a pretty regular source of conversation between us. It won’t shock any of you to learn that I make jokes about everything. In fact the more serious the topic the greater my need to make light of it. I’m not sure why I do it but I think it’s an effort to bring some levity to tense situations and to avoid having to work through how I really feel. Yesterday I said a few *really* stupid things – and later apologised for them. When she asked why I’d said them at all I honestly had no idea. Absolutely no idea. It wasn’t funny – wasn’t even brushing up against funny. Stupid, borderline cruel, inane but not funny.
We've each fought a lot of stuff over our lifetimes and despite some minor challenges over the last two years we’re starting to hit our stride. After many years together we finally got married, we’re all living together under one roof, facing the future together and making family decisions about where my next career move will take us.
We don’t need this right now. I know, I know, nobody ever does. The truth is that I’m mildly terrified of what this could be. My brain tells me there’s an incredibly slim chance that this is anything other than a fibroadenoma or a cyst and I’d be happy to bet big money on that being the case. But, the slim chance that now exists isn’t one we even had to consider as a remote possibility two weeks ago. Two weeks ago the biggest choice we were faced with is coming up with a short-list of cities in the US to which we'd be willing to relocate.
I know the appointment on Thursday is only the beginning of what’s going to be an excruciating few weeks while we wait and wonder. Maybe the strong, funny type isn’t what she needs right now but I don't know how to be anything else...